


Nude, Reclining

by mrs_leary (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bradley has a really <em>really</em> good reason to ask Colin to take a nude photo of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nude, Reclining

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for my **[cottoncandy-bingo](http://cottoncandy-bingo.dreamwidth.org/)** card: 'Naked all day'.

♦

Bradley James was drunk.

They were in Bradley’s hotel room after a long Saturday night out. And the reason Colin could tell Bradley was drunk was that he wanted Colin to take a nude photo of him. Dead giveaway, really.

‘No, no,’ Bradley insistently protested. ‘It’s for good reason. It’s for Prince Harry.’

Colin remained sceptical. ‘How’s that, then?’ he asked.

The story came out rather slowly, in bits and pieces. Apparently there was a Facebook page. Called ‘Support Prince Harry with a naked salute’. On which people posted photos. Of themselves, nude. Saluting Prince Harry.

‘And you feel this is necessary _why_ exactly?’ Colin asked.

‘Man’s got a right to some harmless shenanigans.’

‘Mmm…’ Colin said in equivocal agreement.

‘Anyway! He’s a prince of the realm! And he’s totally fit. Should be proud of him!’

‘Mmm.’

‘Virile specimen like that… Hardly fair to complain when one of his jobs is to beget heirs ‘n’ all.’

‘That’s William’s job, isn’t it?’

‘Doesn’t hurt to have back–ups,’ Bradley concluded knowingly. ‘Anyway, as a person who embodies a fellow prince and his distant ancestor –’

‘Huh! _Mythical_ ancestor.’

‘– I feel it incumbent upon me to show my support.’

‘Bradley,’ Colin said.

‘Yes?’

‘You’re talking about putting nude photos of yourself on the internet. In what way is this a good idea?’

‘Not _totally_ nude. Have to, you know, hide the Crown Jewels.’

‘Even so. Not the _smartest_ PR move I ever heard.’

‘Nah, come on! S’all in a good cause!’

‘And when the fans get hold of them…’ It didn’t bear thinking about. Colin shuddered.

‘So, I do it anonymously. Hide my face as well. Create a new account to post it. Not a problem.’

Colin eyed the man warily. ‘Bradley, you’ve been thinking about this _way_ too much.’

‘Come on, Cols… All you have to do is point and shoot, you know? That’s all I’m asking.’

‘No, you’re not! You’re asking me to be part of what could be your most disastrous mistake ever!’

‘Come _on_ … Where’s your sense of adventure?’

And it seemed that Bradley’s sense of adventure was alive and kicking, for he stood up and matter-of-factly began shedding his clothes. Colin just sat there on the foot of the bed, too surprised not to watch as Bradley’s perfect body was revealed. It wasn’t that there was anything much there he hadn’t seen, in one way or another, over the years of shared dressing rooms and facilities. But this was different. This was _so_ different.

Once Bradley was naked, he fetched a couple of items from his suitcase. Colin continued watching, his eyebrows climbing. He wasn’t sure what it meant, that Bradley was no longer verbally insisting and Colin was no longer arguing. He suspected that it did not bode well.

Then Bradley was shrugging on his Arsenal shirt.

‘So, not naked, then,’ Colin concluded.

‘No, this is how I’ll hide my face, see?’ and Bradley lifted the front of the shirt up over his head, as if celebrating a try – which left Colin free to _look_ , and look he did, he couldn’t help himself with Bradley’s Crown Jewels hanging heavy and precious and full of promise, and Colin’s mouth hungering –

Then they were gone again as Bradley held his bunched up footy shorts against them. ‘See? No one’s gonna know it’s me.’

‘Uh –’ Colin had to clear his throat before he could voice any words. ‘I, uh – I guess so, yeah.’

‘Come on, then!’ Bradley peeled the shirt back down to peer impatiently at Colin – and then used his other hand to gesture towards where his phone lay on the table – leaving himself exposed again, and Colin forced himself not to _look_ but to swivel his gaze towards the phone, and flustered he stood and went to fetch it, and then it was all too late, he was committed to this crazy notion of Bradley’s – but that was all right, wasn’t it? He could take a photo. Didn’t mean they had to post the damned thing on Facebook.

His hands were shaking, but he knew well enough by now how to take a shot with Bradley’s phone. They’d been taking photos with their own and each other’s phones for years now, through all kinds of makes and models, this was too easy, if only he wasn’t trembling… ‘Ready, then?’ he asked, voice rough with nerves.

Bradley pulled the shirt taut, hid his Jewels with the shorts in his left hand, stood to attention and saluted with his right.

Colin simply took the photo from where he stood, the shutter click loud in the silent stillness. He stared at the image on the screen for a long moment while Bradley relaxed and began tugging down the shirt – ‘No, wait. This is rubbish,’ Colin said.

‘Yeah?’

Bradley didn’t ask to see it, but only waited for further direction. So Colin told him to shift over to his left. Then Colin sat on the bed to get a better perspective, and Bradley saluted again, with a bit of wall and a fall of curtain behind him. Then Colin shifted him over to stand in front of the floor–length windows, with the black sky and city lights behind him, and the sweet round curve of his arse echoed in the reflections. Colin took a few more, with different backgrounds, from different perspectives, while Bradley proudly held his salute, his posture as tall and upright as any military man’s, and Colin flexed his own spine in instinctive fellow feeling.

‘All right,’ Colin said once he’d run out of ideas, maybe ten photos later. Bradley let the shorts drop to the floor, and then slowly started taking off the shirt, stretching up in unashamed display. The mood hadn’t changed yet… Or maybe it had, transforming from friendly trust to uninhibited willingness. ‘Bradley,’ Colin said just as soon as the shirt hit the floor as well. ‘Lie down on the bed.’

Bradley moved to do so without question, he simply lay back on top of the dull–gold counterpane and then propped himself up a bit with a hand between his head and the pillow. From where Colin stood, the line running from the tip of Bradley’s bent elbow down his triceps, past the scatter of golden–brown hair under his arm and then down his ribs to his waist – that line was _exquisite_. ‘May I?’ he asked.

Bradley nodded, just once, and then watched with a hint of wariness, guardedness, which added a piquancy to the pictures. But then after a couple of shots Bradley relaxed into it, and stretched voluptuously, closing his eyes languidly for one photo, and then candidly returning the camera’s gaze the next. Colin circled the bed, taking mostly full–length shots but also some close–ups. The last one, he emailed to himself – and Bradley didn’t mind, for when Colin’s phone chimed a moment later to announce the image’s arrival, the utter openness of Bradley’s expression didn’t falter, and neither did the growing interest of his glorious cock.

Ohhh… Colin Morgan must be intoxicated. 

The reason Colin thought he must be intoxicated was that Colin was on his knees now on Bradley’s bed, and then on all fours, prowling towards Bradley who awaited him fearlessly – and then Colin was kissing Bradley James, finally kissing him, kneeling over him and finally letting his hands cup that ridiculously handsome face, his lips meet that perfect mouth, and he felt something akin to delirium, to worship – so finally Colin’s body followed the lead of his hands and mouth, and though he was still fully clothed he shifted down to fit in close against Bradley’s body, and something within him turned over. 

He knew that it would never turn back.

♦

Afterwards, as they sprawled there messily spent and stupidly happy, Bradley asked, ‘D’you have any plans for the rest of the weekend?’

‘No.’ Colin glanced at the man. ‘Nothing that can’t be changed.’ When Bradley nodded in satisfaction, Colin asked, ‘D’ _you_ have plans…?’

‘It is my solemn and avowed intention,’ Bradley announced, ‘not to get dressed again until Monday morning.’

‘Perfect,’ said Colin.

‘The plans are perfect…?’

‘No, _you’re_ perfect,’ Colin admitted, before adding in a growl, ‘you great eejit!’ And he lifted himself up, and he pounced on the man again.

Bradley didn’t seem to mind. No, not at all.

♦


End file.
